Imagine this: You’re in Paris, ready to indulge in a luxurious dining experience. You’ve reserved a table at Le Cinq, a Michelin three-star restaurant nestled within the Four Seasons Hotel George V. You’re expecting culinary artistry, a symphony of flavors, and a night to remember. But what you get is a gut-wrenching disappointment, an assault on your senses that leaves you wondering how such a prestigious establishment could serve such terrible food.
This isn’t just a bad meal, it’s a tragedy of culinary proportions.
A Pricey Plunge into Disgust
This journey began with a desire to understand the high cost of fine dining. I envisioned a celebratory observation of the extravagant, a glimpse into the world of exorbitant prices. I chose Le Cinq, led by the renowned chef Christian Le Squer, expecting whimsical, perhaps outrageous, culinary creations. Instead, I encountered a nightmare of shamefully bad food.
The dining room, a cavernous space, oozes wealth, with a décor that screams “money talks”. It’s a room designed for people who have never felt the sting of guilt, who are utterly oblivious to the atrocities on their plates.
A Symphony of Awful
The canapés, the first bite of this culinary horror show, were a travesty. A translucent sphere, resembling a silicone breast implant, burst in my mouth releasing stale air and a faint ginger flavor. My companion, a connoisseur of culinary delights, compared it to a dusty, forgotten condom. This was just the beginning of a series of spherifications – bursting, popping, deflating – all of which seemed to be the chef’s sole creative idea.
Then came the amuse-bouches, each more offensive than the last. A halved passionfruit, its natural sweetness replaced with a bitter, overpowering watercress purée, left my lips puckering.
A Feast of Forgettable
The starters, priced between €70 and €140 (£121 for a single plate), were equally disappointing. The “Parisian style” gratinated onions, supposed to evoke the richness of French onion soup, tasted more like burnt nightmares. A dish of raw scallops and sea urchin ice cream, while innovative, offered nothing groundbreaking, and the combination was, frankly, inedible.
The main courses were no better. A pigeon, requested medium-rare, arrived so pink it might have flown away. The accompanying Japanese pear and watercress purée were offensively acidic. A heap of couscous, priced at €95, was a bland, underwhelming mess, topped with mushy, flavorless “merguez” sausages.
A Sweet End to a Sour Experience
Even the desserts offered little respite. A frozen chocolate mousse cigar, wrapped in a tuile, was marred by a flap of milk skin that looked as if it had fallen from a burn victim. A cheesecake, topped with frozen parsley powder, tasted like nothing more than grass clippings. I had to beg the waitress to take it off the bill.
Despite the exorbitant prices, the wine list offered no solace. A glass of champagne, white, and red, chosen by the sommelier, added €170 to the already astronomical bill, which reached a staggering €600.
A Culinary Travesty
I’ve dined at expensive restaurants before, without complaint. But Le Cinq was a different beast entirely. It was a culinary disgrace, a monument to terrible food and absurdly inflated prices. I’ve spent far less at other restaurants and enjoyed far better experiences. The only thing more offensive than the food was the arrogance with which it was served.
This is not a restaurant I would recommend to anyone. In fact, I would go so far as to say that it’s a place best avoided.
